


Undertow

by edwardskhakipants



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Romance, Twilight Renaissance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edwardskhakipants/pseuds/edwardskhakipants
Summary: Edward Masen has just been adopted by a young couple with a heart for orphaned teens. When he discovers life as the shiny new toy to the even shiner Cullen family may be worse than life as a faceless nobody, he finds comfort in the oddest place: in the dark eyes of a stranger, as deep and mysterious as the ocean itself. Will he find the solace he had been always searching for in this strange, quiet girl, or will he find something greater than he could ever imagine?
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. The Cullens

**Author's Note:**

> Stephanie Meyer owns the characters of the Twilight Saga. I’m just borrowing them.

“You hit the jackpot, kid,” my social worker muttered, rereading the file for my adoptive parents yet again. “No kids get adopted at seventeen, let alone to a family like this!” Garrett closed the manila folder and gleefully smacked it on the fold-down tray in front of him.

I nodded to appease him. I didn’t understand his enthusiasm. This adoption was going to be the same as any of the foster homes I had been dropped in. I would simply arrive at this new house, be used as a tax reduction, and in two years' time, everyone would move on with their lives. The only difference this time was added annoyance of acquiring a new driver’s license for my new last name.

“You’re just like Little Orphan Annie moving in with Mr. Morebucks,” he smirked, mussing my hair, “red hair and all.”

Orphan jokes hardly stung anymore—it had been fifteen years since my parents’ accident—but they had to still be in poor taste, right? Garrett was only trying his best, so I let it slide and offered my most encouraging smile.

He returned the gesture—pleased with himself—and opened the folder to read about my new parents’ obscene wealth _again._

Doctor Carlisle Cullen and his wife, Esme Cullen. Apparently, the young couple had a heart for orphaned youth. When the couple was married right out of college, a terrible accident had forced Esme’s niece and nephew into her care. For whatever reason, this led them to adopt two more teenagers. And when my social worker had read about this couple and their absurd generosity, he contacted them about me, and they decided to adopt a fifth.

I was on my way to begin my new life as a Cullen.

It was only a three-hour flight from Seattle and too soon our plane landed at LAX. Garrett retrieved my two bags from the overhead and the two of us ducked off the plane. We made our way towards the baggage claim, where we were met by an attractive, young couple in their late twenties.

My parents.

I had seen them once before when they came up to Washington to meet me and initiate the adoption process, but I could not help but be struck by their absurd youth and beauty. The doctor was young and blonde with movie-star good looks; his wife had caramel locks and golden doe-eyes and was just as beautiful. Both were smartly dressed in business-casual outfits that probably cost more than all of my possessions combined.

Esme held open her arms for me immediately, “Edward!” she sang. I did my part in my role as son and allowed her to gather me into my arms.

Garrett met Carlisle with a strong handshake and the two exchanged some final paperwork. They went over a few more details, and after about two minutes of chit-chat, Garrett wrapped it up. “Well, Edward, my flight back leaves in about thirty minutes, so I’ll have to get going. It was a pleasure knowing you, kid.” Garrett came in for an awkward, one-armed hug. It was unnecessary; he accomplished his job as my social worker. He could move onto the next kid and just forget about me.

“Oh, Garrett,” Esme cooed, “It must be so dreadful to spend all day on a plane. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to spend the night at the house?”

“No, Ma’am,” he said, despite the fact that he was older than my new mom, “Thank you, but I’d rather get home to my bride.”

Esme put both hands on her above her heart, “Oh, how sweet.” I could already tell that Esme was like this all the time—babying anything that wandered into her view.

Garrett gave my new parents a parting handshake and offered me a final wave before heading back into the main terminal of LAX.

After a few brief seconds of uncomfortable silence, we decided it was time to leave the airport. Carlisle took both of my bags while Esme chirped away at my side, “You’re so tall! Carlisle, dear, do I remember him being this tall? The plane must have been so uncomfortable for those long legs! We can take a walk on the beach before dinner; let you stretch them out. Carlisle, can you move our reservation? Oh, but, you must be starving! Come, now. There are smoothies right over here.”

Soon, I was enjoying a strawberry-banana smoothie in the back of a luxurious black Mercedes with my new parents. It was a very surreal experience. I usually didn’t care for bananas.

For the next hour, I listened to Carlisle and Esme complain about LA traffic and discuss their other kids. Eventually, we drove up a pristinely manicured drive to my new house.

No.

House was not the word for this behemoth. Mansion was more like it. The entire home seemed to be made out of stone and glass, formed with surgical precision. The grand scale of the home was evident from the entry-way, with its thirty-foot ceilings and immaculate chandelier.

“You have access to anywhere in the house,” Esme started the tour immediately—her high heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor. I scrambled to keep up with her, “The pool is out back, the game room is on the second floor, the gym is in the basement.” We walked through an enormous walk-in kitchen, “Feel free to eat what you want when you want it. Snacks are in the pantry; drinks are in the drawer here. The only rule is that everyone must attend dinner every weeknight. Weekends are free-for-all.”

“Your room is at the back of the house,” Esme led me up the stairs. She opened a door at the end of the hall to a sparse bedroom. This was standard—all of my previous foster homes were required to give me my own space. My bags were already sitting on the bed—Carlisle must have brought them up during the tour.

“You have your own bathroom,” she pointed to a door, “through the walk-in closet,” she spun and pointed to a glass door almost hidden among the floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the ocean beyond. It seemed everything about this house was designed around incredible vistas. “And everyone has their own balcony.”

 _That_ was new. “Wow,” was all I could say.

Esme smiled at my obvious awe. “I want you to be comfortable here. Never be afraid to ask me for something. No matter how frivolous. Your happiness is most important to me.”

I nodded.

“Speaking of, when we met, you mentioned your love for the oldies, so I took the liberty of buying you a few more records.” She waved at the back wall of my room that was lined in shelf-after-shelf of records. She must have bought out a store’s entire inventory for this collection. In the corner beside the shelves sat an impressive antique record player, looking charmingly out-of-place among the modern décor. This was new, too. I couldn’t remember the last time something was purchased specifically and uniquely for _me_.

“Thank you,” I whispered, still reeling.

“Of course,” Esme fiddled with the controls and gingerly placed the needle on the disc. Fats Domino played an opening riff and the room was soon filled with his iconic piano sound.

“I’ll leave you to unpack. We have a dinner reservation at seven; your siblings will meet us at the restaurant. Carlisle and I will be on the third floor in our master if you need us.”

There wasn’t too much for me to do. I took the clothes from one bag and stuffed them in one dresser drawer and did the same with the second bag. My backpack contained a few books and notebooks, but those could stay in there for now. When I was finished, I sat on my bed and stared out the window at the vast ocean before me.

Promptly at six-thirty, I waited for Carlisle and Esme in their front sitting room. I didn’t dare to sit on anything in this sitting room—every piece of meticulously-placed furniture looked like modern art that shouldn’t be touched.

“Oh, Edward, sweetie, don’t you look dashing!” Esme called as she rushed down the stairs, adjusting her jewelry. I had only changed out of my t-shirt and into my only dress shirt. She led me to a different car in the driveway and stuffed me in the backseat, calling Carlisle’s name behind us. He was on the phone when he slid into the passenger seat of Esme’s car and stayed on the phone all the way downtown. Esme left her car with a valet and I followed her and Carlisle through a crowded downtown area.

I was able to identify my new sibling among the throng of pedestrians on the street in front of the restaurant. Esme and Carlisle had given me a brief overview when we met and before my arrival, each of them sent me a letter introducing themselves.

A large guy with dark, curly hair was obviously Emmett. His letter was the longest of them all, but not because it contained anything of substance—it was littered with stupid jokes and poorly-taken pictures and work-out routine suggestions. His goofy grin and massive brawn gave him away immediately. Beside him, would be his biological sister, Alice. Her letter wasn’t as long as Emmett’s but was entirely filled, front-to-back, with _words_ written in her tiny, little font in order to squeeze as many of them onto a single page as possible. Her short stature and willow figure matched her handwriting perfectly. Standing off to the side, a bit aloof, would be Jasper. His blonde, wavey hair and tanned skin told the world he owned a surfboard and he was not afraid to use it.

The second I came into view, the one I presumed to be Alice was in my face.

“Hi, Edward! Welcome to the family! It took you long enough to get here! I’m Alice. Wow, your hair! Mom! You didn’t say he was a redhead! I love the color. The button-down, however. Eh. Redheads really shouldn’t wear white; it washes them out.”

It was easy to see the family resemblance between Alice and Esme.

Emmett pushed Alice aside and shook my hand, “Don’t mind that little bug; she’s easy to flick away. I’m Emmett.”

Jasper stepped up behind him and offered me a fist to bump, “Jasper.” In his letter, Jasper only talked about his art and surfing, so I was not at all surprised to catch the strong scent of weed wafting off of him. Smoking was almost a requirement for artsy, laid-back guys like him.

“Hey. Thanks, Um, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Where’s Rosalie?” Esme asked.

Emmett pointed towards the restaurant with his thumb, “Inside. She saw some girls from school and wanted to sit with them for appetizers.”

Esme shook her head, exasperated, “That girl.” She touched my shoulder affectionately, “Don’t worry about that, Rosalie means no offense.”

I didn’t take any.

When we went inside, the hostess greeted Carlisle and Esme by name and led us to our table immediately, despite the crowd of customers already waiting in the lobby. Instead of handing us menus, the hostess promised she would tell the chef about our arrival and he will come up with something special for Esme.

Esme put her hand on mine, “I don’t believe there were any allergies mentioned in your paperwork. Do you have any preferences, sweetie? We usually just let Aro cook whatever he wants for us,” she waved her hand toward the kitchen to indicate she was talking about the chef, “but if you want something specific, I’ll let him know.”

I shrugged, “I’m okay with anything.”

She patted my hand once more, “Glad to hear it.”

Soon, a man swept out of the kitchen doors, calling Esme’s name in a thick Italian accent as he gracefully maneuvered around the tables. She rose to greet him, and he kissed her on both cheeks. He held her hands as several servers paraded towards us, placing family-style dishes on the table, while Aro described each one to Esme and why he chose to make it for her.

Esme gestured towards me, “Aro, I told you Carlisle and I were adopting again. This is my new son, Edward.”

“Ah!” Aro greeted, “Molto bene! Truly a night for celebration!”

With a bow and a final flourish, Aro left us to our extravagant meal, demanding it would be on the house, in honor of their expanded family. As we were about to dig in, Carlisle’s cell phone went off.

“I need to take this,” he told the family. He tilted up Esme’s chin to kiss her goodbye before leaving the table.

“He’s always working,” Esme explained.

“Dad’s the best plastic surgeon in town,” Alice chirped, “He did Kylie Jenner’s lips.”

“And Nikki Minaj’s butt!” Emmett giggled.

“Kids,” Esme scolded, “Your father had nothing to do with anyone’s butt,” she looked at me apologetically, “Carlisle is a spinal surgeon, one of the best in the country. We’re very proud. However, being the best comes with a lot of extra hours. His absence is because he loves his family and wants to provide us with the most.” It seemed that she needed to reassure herself more than console me. I simply nodded.

When a waitress popped over to refill our breadbasket, a beautiful blonde sat fluidly at the table beside Emmett. Her no-nonsense attitude told me she must be my second sister, Rosalie. Her letter was short, sweet, and to the point.

“Glad to see your willing to join us,” Esme commented.

“Well, Jane wouldn’t order another breadbasket,” she said, reaching for the bread at the center of the table.

“Are you going to say anything to your new brother?”

Rosalie considered for a moment. “Welcome to the freak show,” she smiled sarcastically.

“Rosie!”

“What?” Rosalie asked between bites of bread, “You think he doesn’t know that? What other family has an age gap of less than ten years between them?”

To everyone’s surprise—including mine—I chuckled.

Esme softened at the sound, “Well, we are an unusual group.”

That didn’t even begin to cover it.

**OoO**

The next morning, I rose and got dressed quickly for school. My first day at Harvard-Westlake Private School. Never in my life did I think I was going to end up a private school kid. Before I had arrived in LA, Esme had arranged several virtual interviews for me with the principal and various teachers at the school to make sure I would be caught up on my assignments before I even started.

Rosalie would be the only one attending high school with me, the rest of them were enrolled at UCLA—Emmett was a sophomore, and Jasper and Alice were freshmen, though they still lived at home and commuted to campus. Rosalie was one year older than me and would be joining the rest of her siblings at UCLA in the fall. It was probably why Carlisle and Esme decided to adopt me—they needed a seventeen-year-old to help them feel young again.

Outside my room, a clothing store had thrown up on the second-floor hallway—clothes were scattered on every surface while Alice whined about not being able to find a specific skirt. Esme practically ran me over as she rushed down the stairs with one phone to her ear, and a second phone in her hand, texting. Down in the kitchen, Emmett stood at the stove, burning some eggs from the smell of it. Rosalie switched on a blender, which Esme immediately switched off, and reminded her daughter that she was on the phone. Jasper sat at the island, cheerfully munching cereal straight out of the box, watching that chaos ensue.

I waited at the counter for someone—Esme or Rosalie—to tell me how I was going to get to school that morning. “Oh, Edward!” Esme breathed, as if my presence was somehow a surprise, “Rosalie, you’re taking your brother to school!”

“No, I’m not,” Rosalie decided and switched on the blender to drown out any further arguments.

“Please, Rosie,” Esme asked, “I would take him myself, but I have a meeting with a new client.”

Rosalie shrugged, “I’m sorry mom, but I already have a full car,” she put her hand on her chest with a fake little gasp, “unless you want to me go back on my word!”

“Rosie…”

“He can take the Volvo,” Emmett suggested, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

Esme whirled, “Brilliant, Emmet! Can you please find the keys and show Edward where it's parked?”

Emmett shoveled the rest of his eggs into his mouth, “Yeah. Let me get my stuff.”

“Tell Alice to hurry up or she’s going to be late!” Esme called after him.

Rosalie shuffled out the back door, blended coffee in hand. Jasper soon followed after her but ran back into the room to retrieve the backpack that he left on the stool. As Esme adjusted her earrings using the glass on the front door as a mirror, Alice practically shoved her out of the way in a frantic rush to get to her car.

The house went from barely-controlled chaos to eerie silence in a matter of seconds. I took the respite to grab a few handfuls of cereal.

Emmett’s chuckle echoed through the carnivorous kitchen. “Ready, kid?”

I nodded and followed him out the back door.

“School days are always like this; you’ll never get used to it,” he warned, tossing two gym bags and a backpack into the back of a massive red jeep. He led me out of the main garage and towards a back building.

“Esme and Carlisle bought me the Volvo, but it was never really my style. Luckily, a buddy of mine got me a great deal of an off-roading Jeep. The thing’s awesome—tricked out as fuck. We kept the Volvo on a whim, and it turns out we actually kept it for you.”

He opened the door to the garage to reveal one of the most basic, nondescript silver cars I had ever seen in my life. There was nothing to say about this car other than the fact that it was a car. I loved it.

He tossed me the keys, “She’s yours now, buddy.”

I easily caught them, “Thank you.”

He saluted me with two fingers to his brow, “No problem. Good luck on your first day.”

I took my time driving, knowing that my tardiness would be excused by ignorance. I wasn’t exactly in a dire rush to get to school. The principal explained that Harvard Westlake Private School would offer me an academic challenge that would prepare me for anything for the rest of my life. It was going to be whiplash after attending Forks High School, where the textbooks were from the Seventies, and teachers considered _Disney’s Pocahontas_ to be a historically accurate film to show to the class.

The cut-throat parking situation was already enough to weed out the weak from the strong. I circled the school at least five times, ready to give up and go home until I discovered an ancillary parking lot down a dirt road. It was probably for staff only, but if I got in trouble, I could play the new student card and get off with a warning.

I pulled into the literal last spot and glanced at the clock on my dashboard. Thirty minutes late.

Another vehicle chugged its way into the ancillary parking lot with me. It was the only other car I saw besides mine that wasn’t released in the past two years. However, the ancient Chevy truck could be a grandpa to my 2015 Volvo. It pulled up onto the grass next to the pavement.

Practically falling out of the decrepit truck, was the most gorgeous girl I had ever seen in my life. Her thick, mahogany hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a beautiful heart-shaped face. She scurried to the back of her truck and heaved herself over the edge. The end of her ponytail seemed to taunt me as swished to-and-fro along her lower back, while she dug around under the tarp covering the bed. I tried to be a gentleman and ignore the creamy skin of her upper thighs peeking out from the hem of her little, white sundress, but I failed immediately.

Using all of her strength, she heaved a bag out of the back, which threw her off balance on her delicate tippy-toes and she began to fall backward, towards the concrete. In the nick of time, I caught her. She looked up at me in horror, as if she didn’t realize there was another person in the parking lot with her.

Her big, brown eyes enraptured me. Deep as the ocean, swirling with just as much mystery. I was so entranced by her gaze; I scarcely noticed the temperature of her skin. Despite the ninety-degree weather, her skin was freezing, like she just had the air conditioning in her truck at full blast. But I didn’t want to let go. In fact, I felt like I could hold on to her forever and it still wouldn’t be enough.

She did not seem to feel the same way because she viciously recoiled from my touch as if _I_ were the one with freezing skin.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, but she was already racing away on shaky legs.

I leaned against the frame of my Volvo, allowing her a head start so she wouldn’t have to walk down the abandoned road with me trailing behind her. I was already late—a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. Besides, I needed a moment or two the catch my breath, for I was suddenly breathless.


	2. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Twilight Saga and all of its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. We’re only having a little AU fun.

I managed to find the main office in this maze they pawned off as a school. First period was a bust, but luckily the school administration was understanding about their terrible wayfinding. After fawning over the color of my hair and my new parents, the secretaries sent me on my way with a map of the school and form for all of my teachers to sign that I was to bring it back at the end of the day.

Once I found my second period Government room, I handed a large, balding man sitting at the teacher’s desk my form. Swamped with papers, he barely registered what he was signing before he sent me to the back of the class and took attendance. He wasted no time introducing his new student and his monotoned lecture lasted until the bell rang. 

After he released us for third period, a pretty girl with wild, natural curls popped up next to my side, “Hi, I’m Jessica Stanley!”

I nodded, “Edward Masen.”

“Wait,” her eyebrows turned up in confusion, “Didn’t you answer to ‘Cullen’ during attendance?”

“Uh, right. Edward Cullen.”

“So, you _were_ just adopted by the Cullen family?” she confirmed.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god!” she gushed, all her previous apprehension gone, “You have no idea how lucky you are!”

Yeah, Jessica, dead parents and fifteen years of foster care were sure signs of fortune’s favor.

“Is it true that your parents are like twenty-five? I bet it’s so much fun there—just like _Gilmore Girls_.”

“Um…”

She brushed her curls over her shoulder, “What’s your next class?”

I pulled out my schedule. Jessica plucked it out of my hand and reviewed it herself, “Oh! You have Trig next. Lemme text Lauren, she has that class too. Don’t worry; I’ll let her know I called dibs,” she winked at me. “Follow me. It’s near the fencing room.”

Dibs? Fencing room? _Where am I?_

Jessica had already walked away with my schedule, so I had no choice but to follow her like a wayward puppy. As we walked, she reviewed my schedule with me, informing me who I will be sitting next to in each of my classes and where I should meet her for lunch. When we got to a door halfway across the school, she handed me off to a girl with cropped blonde hair.

Throwing the girl a fierce warning glare, Jessica wished me luck in Trig, “At lunch, you’ll be all mine again,” she promised.

I wasn’t too sure how I felt about that.

The girl with the cropped hair turned out to be Lauren. And Lauren made it clear she was not going to respect Jessica’s dibs, and made it clearer that I had no say in the matter. We had the next _two_ classes together before lunch. The entire time she had her arm twisted around mine, asking me about the family I had met only yesterday.

“Does your sister still throw parties?” She asked while we stood in the lunch line, “I heard they were legendary. I was only a Sophomore when she was a Senior, so I never got an invite, but I’ve heard the stories. Apparently, she turned your basement into a ball pit once, and when your mom found out, instead of getting mad, she had your dad bring her a pool float and a margarita and chilled the rest of the night.”

I was starting to think I would never hear a sentence about my new family that sounded relatively normal, “It’s a gym down there.”

“Yeah,” Lauren agreed, “You have your own gym; it’s how your brother stays so massive. I heard you have a private yoga studio down there, too.”

Did everyone know as much about my house as I did? “Yeah.”

“Mmm, I _love_ yoga. I could teach you my favorite flows. It would be an honor to help you with your flexibility,” she purred. 

“I’m more of a runner.”

We got our food and I followed Lauren out to an outdoor courtyard. At Forks High School, we were crammed into a dingy, badly-lit cafeteria with our frozen applesauce and questionable chicken sandwiches. The kids at Harvard-Westlake enjoyed their made-to-order quesadillas and fresh salads outside with an ocean view.

I spotted the girl from the parking lot immediately—as if she had some sort of pull towards me. She sat with a large group of people at a long table along the perimeter of the space. No—not quite. Despite the overcrowded table, the seats directly across and next to her remained empty. She had the secluded, little corner all to herself. There was no food in front of her, but there was a book in her hands. 

Lauren led me away from the girl to a table in the middle of the courtyard near the fountain, “Everyone, this is the latest and greatest member of the Cullen family: Edward.”

Jessica pulled me into the seat beside her immediately and smiled at Lauren who had to walk around to the other side of the table. I wasn’t going to like that at all. She pointed out the other members at the table and informed me I would have Physics with Angela after lunch and Spanish with Ben after that. She patted my hand, “You’ll be taken care of for the rest of the day.”

“An official Cullen, huh?’” A blonde boy with a perpetual baby-face named Mike asked, “I heard your new mom only adopts teenagers because your dad wanted kids, but she’s afraid of children.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Mike!” Jessica scolded, “That’s an awful rumor. Everyone knows she adopts teenagers because when she adopted her niece and nephew, she got freaked out about the low adoption rate for older kids.”

Mike shrugged, “po-tatoes, po- _ta_ -toes.”

“It’s because their mom is just a pushover for a sob story,” Lauren added, “She’ll let them do whatever they want as long as they bat their sad, little eyes at her. So, play that up, Edward. She’ll _never_ say no.”

These people knew I was _adopted_ , right? They acted like being a Cullen was a hot, new trend that I managed to work my way into, rather than the outcome of detrimental loss. All throughout lunch, they only asked questions to Edward _Cullen_ , not Masen: Was it true Carlisle only adopted attractive youth for appearances? Did we all hook up with one another? Was Esme as crazy as everyone says? My answer to all of these questions was very much the same: _I don’t know._

An Asian boy with long hair named Eric was the only one not asking about Edward Cullen because he was too busy asking after Rosalie, “And Rosalie definitely doesn’t have a secret boyfriend or anything?”

I was getting tired of the third degree, so my reminder came out a bit harsher than I intended, “I met her yesterday.”

“Right,” he laughed, “ _We_ probably know more about your family than you do.”

Obviously.

When lunch was finally over, Jessica reluctantly handed me off to Angela and Ben. The pair seemed like the most pleasant ones at the lunch table—they both had kind eyes and welcoming smiles. They didn’t hound me with questions at lunch, choosing to listen or occasionally exchange whispers and giggles with one another.

“So,” Ben started once we parted from the group, “Where did you move here from?” It was the first question I had been asked that didn’t involve the Cullens.

“Forks, Washington.”

“I have a cousin in Seattle,” Angela stated, just to have something to say, I imagine.

“It’s about four hours west of Seattle.”

She nodded. “Small?”

“Miniscule.”

“You miss it?”

“Not yet,” I admitted. I didn’t think it sank in that I was here with this absurd family permanently quite yet. Nothing in my life had ever been permanent—the thought of staying with one family for the rest of my life would take some getting used to. I wondered how long it would be until I stopped waiting for a phone call with the news that I was about to switch houses, _again_ and whisked away to the next location. I doubted it would ever go away.

“That’s fair,” she agreed, “You’ve been here for only what? Three days?”

“Two.”

“It kinda sucks that you had to start school in the middle of the year like this,” Ben noted. 

The Cullens had planned to get me in August, but it took eleven months rather than the expected six for the paperwork to go through. I expected it had something to do with moving to a different state or inspections of all their other kids. I shrugged, “Adoption is weird.”

“Well,” Angela placed a thoughtful hand on my bicep, “We have a lot of the same courses, so if you feel lost or behind, you can always come to me. For anything.”

“Me too,” Ben agreed.

“In fact, Ben and I usually do our homework together in the coffee shop down the street after school. You should join us today.”

Ben looked like he wanted to say something but decided to keep whatever it was to himself.

I simply nodded; I didn’t want to fully commit to the offer, but I didn’t want to be rude to the first genuinely kind people I’ve talked to all day.

“Well, this is us,” Angela grabbed my wrist to stop me from walking past a classroom door. Ben’s class was only a few doors down and agreed to meet me after class so he could lead me to Spanish. His eyes were fixated on Angela’s hand on my wrist the entire time.

Inside the room, Angela waited for me in the front of the room for the teacher to sign my slip. I looked around the room and saw long, dark hair fanned over a hunched figure doodling on a notebook. My breath hitched in anticipation that it could be _her._ Angela said something to the teacher, but I didn’t catch it. My eyes were locked onto the graceful movement of her hand as she doodled.

Angela took my hand and led me towards the table. She called the girl’s name, but when she looked up, it was not the girl with the truck. Her eyes were too close together and bright blue, rather than the deep, rich brown eyes of my dark-haired beauty.

“Tara, Mr. Banner says you’re going to work with Tyler so I can be partners with Edward,” she held up our intertwined hands like they were proof.

The girl with the deceptive hair nodded and Angela led me to a lab table closer to the front of the room.

“I’m happy you’re here, Edward,” she smiled. 

I nodded, not quite sure what to do with that information. Her smile grew and she pulled out her textbook to show me what the class was working on.

The afternoon with Ben and Angela was marginally more relaxed and comfortable than my morning with Lauren. I managed to evade Angela’s invitation to do homework with her and Ben with the simple excuse that my new mom would want me home early. Besides, I had the feeling that Ben preferred to have that time with Angela all to himself. After dropping my slip back at the front office, I began the hike back to my car. I hoped I would see the beautiful girl with the truck again. Sadly, the old truck was already gone by the time I got there.

After an exasperatingly long drive home in LA traffic, I was ready to spend the rest of the day playing Otis Redding so loudly, I wouldn’t be able to hear my own thoughts. As I walked through my closet to get to my bathroom, I was surprised to find it completely full. When I had left for school this morning, it was still empty. All of my clothes fit nicely into the dresser drawers—I had no need for my walk-in closet.

Someone else did, though.

“Uh, Mom?” I tentatively called out.

But it was Alice who popped her head into my room, “Oh! You’re home!” She held her hands up and waved them around, “Surprise!”

“What?”

She pointed to the clothes hanging in my closet, “Surprise new clothes, silly!”

“Uh…”

“I hope you don’t mind. I happened to notice that you were hopelessly unprepared for LA in the clothes department, so I took the liberty of getting you a few filler pieces to bulk up your wardrobe.”

I turned my head to look back at the “few filler pieces” practically bursting from the rod, “Uh, thank you.”

“No problem! It’s what sisters do!”

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t.”

Alice laughed. The sound was high and light and matched her personality perfectly—I liked it. It made me smile in return. “Well, whatever, it’s what _this_ sister does.”

Shoving me aside, Alice began explaining the clothes to me, and what to wear with what and when to wear it. “Harvard-Westlake is the only private school in LA that doesn’t have a uniform, so you gotta exploit that shit!” she said, holding a green button-down up to me. No, no. It wasn’t _green._ Alice had corrected me earlier—it was _sage._

“I’m so happy with this one. It looks great with your hair. I want you to wear it open with this T-shirt and these shorts, though. You don’t want to look _too_ formal,” she sighed adoringly at the outfit she hand hanging on the door, “Soon, you’ll have every girl at school swooning.”

I felt my ears get hot. “Oh, uh…”

“Have they started already?” she giggled maliciously, “Edward, are you a womanizer?!”

“Definitely not,” I swallowed loudly, “It’s them. They’re a bit… much.”

“I’m not surprised to hear that. The kids at Westlake have _zero_ chill. They will fight tooth-and-nail to get on top,” she stopped abruptly, and her grin grew wider, “and it looks like they want to get _on top_ of you.” Her smile was smug—she seemed quite pleased with her little joke.

I gave her a side-eye. “I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll go away. You’re the new, hot commodity. In a few weeks, someone will get a new car or a new internship and then they’ll all have something new to obsess over.”

That wasn’t the most comforting assurance. “Sounds tiring.”

“It’s how it’s always been. Everyone there has been raised to believe that they’re the best, so they all have to constantly find a way to prove that they’re actually the best,” she offered as an explanation.

“From what I’ve heard today, you four have done a fairly decent job at being the best.”

She giggled, “Yeah. We did make quite the name for ourselves. Emmett dominated in the sports—he carried the baseball team, wrestling team, and lacrosse team on his shoulders. Jasper blew everyone away with his art—they say no one can capture and recreate emotion like Jazz can. He’s incredible—they let him do the mural in the courtyard. Not only did _I_ set every trend for four years straight, but they said no other class president raised more money for the school than I did from all my fundraising ideas. And now, Rosalie is killing it in academia—she’s on track to be Valedictorian and I’m pretty sure everyone hates her for that. We’ll have to find something for you!”

“I’m already prepared to be the family disappointment.”

“Oh, Edward! Don’t be like that!”

I shrugged. It was true. I didn’t have many interests and didn’t particularly exceed in any of them. I liked to run, but I wasn’t all that fast. I liked to read, but that would hardly win me any awards. I liked the piano, but there was never any around for me to play. Besides, the Cullen family didn’t need another overachiever—they needed an underachiever that they could all come together and criticize at every family gathering. I was more than willing to play that role.

“Well, I’m not going to let that happen,” she crossed her arms. “ _This_ family will not have a disappointment. And if it does, it’s going to be Emmett.”

**oOo**

Every day for the next two weeks, I parked in the same ancillary parking lot, but each day that old Chevy would be parked on the grass before I arrived and would be gone before I left. I wasn’t able to get any more information about the girl, either. Every time I could work the truck casually into conversations, everyone seemed to have a different idea of who its owner was. Some thought it belonged to the maintenance worker or the groundskeeper. Others said it belonged to the sophomore boy whose family only owned antique cars. Not one person mentioned a breathtaking, brunette girl.

With no other way to find out any information about her without outright asking after her, I tried to make myself known to her, so I could at least introduce myself. I took the extra effort to walk across the courtyard to throw my lunch out in the trash cans closest to her. I even began taking different routes to my classes, hoping just one of them would put her in my path. But she remained a distant stranger.

There were a few things I learned about her on my own, though. She had five sexy freckles on her left ear—each one I wanted to kiss. She wore a sundress every day. All of them billowed around her small frame as she walked. My favorites were the white one from our first encounter and the light pink one that enhanced the blush across her cheeks. She was painfully shy. She never spoke to anyone, or even looked up from her book, for that matter. She was a fast reader. Every day at lunch, her nose was buried into a different tattered paperback. We even had similar taste, it seemed. If she wasn’t reading classics like Bronte or Poe or Dickinson, it was nonfiction.

At lunch one Friday afternoon while I watched her read her third Agatha Christie novel that week, Jessica bushed her fingers up and down my arm.

“Edward, you have the best forearms.”

I wasn’t in the mood for this. “I have dainty wrists.”

She laughed a bit too loudly, “Nonsense, your entire arm is perfect. Lauren, isn’t his entire arm perfect?” she smirked at the blonde across the table wedged between Mike and Eric.

This was typical. Jessica and Lauren were constantly vying for attention that I didn’t want to give them. It was getting frustrating. The two of them were discussing me like I wasn’t even there like they usually did, but I didn’t care enough to pay them much attention. Across the courtyard, the girl glared up at the sky and packed up her stuff earlier than usual. That was new. Maybe I could follow her into the empty building, innocently strike up a conversation…

A foot sliding up at down my shin brought my attention back to my own table. Across from me, Lauren was staring at me, looking as if she was ready to pounce.

“I would like to taste—,” she started. Thank the Lord in heaven above, a fat raindrop fell from the sky and landed on Lauren’s cheek, effectively ending that sentence prematurely. “—fuck!” she nearly screeched.

Soon, all hell broke loose as everyone raced for the building, most of them ditched their half-eaten lunches in a rush to stay dry. I frowned as I looked around—I would never find the girl in this mess. Every single student but me was out of that courtyard in a matter of seconds. Taking my time, I stacked the trays for everyone at my abandoned table and took them to the drop-off. By the time I was done, my hair wasn’t even entirely soaked through.

These LA prep school kids wouldn’t survive five minutes in Forks.

When lunch was finished, all the other kids were already in their next classes or lingering in the hallway in small clusters. As I passed the library on my way to meet Angela in Physics, the most exquisite sight caught my attention.

The girl.

She was there. Sitting. Alone and entirely approachable.

Almost by its own volition, my body turned away from my scheduled physics class and towards the library. No one really needed to know that much physics, anyway. I got the gist.

For longer than could be considered normal, I stood in front of a stack of books, silently willing her to look up. I didn’t think I was this kind of person. Someone who would get this keyed up over a stranger they barely knew. But here I was, standing in a library I didn’t need to be in pretending to look at a stack of books I had no interest in because it gave me a chance to look at _her_.

And looking at her was like looking modern masterpiece. Mysterious, unique, and incredibly, impossibly beautiful.

As she read, I enjoyed watching her reactions probably more than I should. I liked how I could tell she was at a suspenseful part of her book. Her teeth were embedded in her bottom lip and her dark eyes seemed to get wider with every word she read. When something in the book caused her to actually flinch and cover her mouth with her hand, it was too adorable. I couldn’t stand it. I had to meet her.

The only question now was how stupid was I willing to look to capture this girl’s attention?

Incredibly stupid.

I unscrewed the cap of my water bottle ever-so-slightly and walked over to her table. On the way, I made sure she had no papers or personal belongings scattered across the table. The coast was clear: she sat at an empty table with her book safely in her hands.

When I walked past her table, I let my hip bump the corner, causing my water bottle to spill on the table. She jumped back in fright so forcefully, her chair fell out from behind her and landed on the ground.

I immediately felt like an ass; I hadn’t expected such an extreme reaction.

“Sorry!” I placed my belongings on the table beside hers, “Sorry!” I removed the button-down Alice had purchased for me to reveal the t-shirt underneath and used it to mop up the water.

She stared at me with enormous eyes.

“Honestly, sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” I soaked up all of the water from the table, “See? All dry. I am so sorry about that.”

Cautiously, I bent down behind her to lift her fallen chair back into place. She looked at me, down at the table, and back up to me. I waited with bated breath until she finally sat back down and reopened her book.

I sat down at the table next to hers, ready to chalk this up as a loss. However, my stupid mouth didn’t listen to my stupid head and instead, I asked, “Avoiding the rain too, huh?”

As expected, she didn’t say anything.

Desperation forced me to continue, “Where I came from, it was always raining. Forks, Washington. You ever heard of it? Of course not. No one has. I never thought I would miss the rain, but it turns out I do. It’s too sunny here. Not ideal for a ginger.” I rustled my hair.

I glanced over at her. She was still looking at the book, but her eyes were no longer skimming across the page.

“There’s too _much_ here, too. In Forks, you were surrounded by trees, and forest, and fog instead of people, and places, and things. You could drive down a mountain road for miles without coming across another soul. But here, not only can you not actually _drive_ anywhere because of traffic, but you can’t even take two steps without running into six people and a fish taco stand.”

The teeniest curl of her lip encouraged me to keep talking, “I miss the stillness. And the quiet. And the stars. You could actually see stars at night in Forks, not just airplanes. And the cold. I even miss the cold. It’s too hot here. I’m always sweaty.”

I had no idea where that came from. I felt my ears get hot from admitting to a pretty girl that I was always sweaty, but when I peeked over at her again, she was smiling. Full-on smiling. I felt like I had just won a prize. 

After that outstanding victory, I was able to keep my mouth shut. Hoping that my proximity would encourage her to say something back to me, I pulled out my homework. It didn’t work, though. We sat in silence past the final bell and into the afternoon. She seemed lost in her book, while I couldn’t make it through my first math problem without getting distracted by her nearness.

When the pitter-patter of rain died down, she packed her bag.

“Hey,” I placed a hand on the side of her table as she rose. “I’m Edward Masen. Well, now Edward Cullen, I guess. What’s your name?”

She looked down where my arm was blocking her path. Realizing how threatening that may seem, I removed it immediately. I hadn’t meant to block her, only catch her attention.

“Sorry. Again.” I ran my hand through my hair, “Could I please know your name?”

The way she bit down on her bottom lip was so adorable, I could have sworn my heart stopped. Her eyes met mine, wide and imploring, for a tense second before she lowered her gaze and hurried out of the library without a word.

Defeated, I slumped back into my chair.


	3. Quick Swim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and all of its characters. This is merely a bit of AU fun.

Even though most would encounter with the girl in the library was an utter and complete failure, I was stupid enough to hope for the chance that it could still spark a friendship with her. That she would approach me at lunch, tell me she was in a rush that day, or that my boyish charms had rendered her speechless, tell me how she agreed with my brilliant LA insights, and invite me for lunch. Then, in the future, the two of us would laugh at the sheer awkwardness during our first conversation.

However, the exact opposite turned out to be the case. Everything about me seemed to cause her distress. Each day at lunch, she made sure that I was in her direct line of sight, so she would notice if looked at her and stop my blatant stares with wary eyes. The rare times I would see her in the hall or the parking lot, she would immediately turn and go in the opposite direction. Once, I tried to approach her at lunch, to apologize and swear I wasn’t a threat, but she had gathered her things and fled back into the building before I got halfway across the courtyard.

Eventually, I just gave up and let her be. I no longer parked in the ancillary parking lot with her. I made sure to sit with my back towards her at lunch, so she would be sure I wouldn’t look at her and could focus on her reading. It got to the point where I no longer knew what color sundress she was wearing each day.

It was awful.

Esme must have noticed my despondency because her mothering went into overdrive. She began to pack me lunches with little notes like I was in kindergarten. She would bake me special treats and leave them in my room so the others couldn’t get to them. I kept waiting for the irritation of my overbearing mother to overpower the longing I felt after the girl, but it never did. What was my problem? I had been saying goodbye to people my entire life. It should have been easy to forget this strange girl and move on, but her face lingered into my conscience far for often than it should. It didn’t help that I was beginning to _enjoy_ Esme’s little surprises. The encouragement and desserts must be fueling the delusions, for I would dream of falling in love with the girl every night, and soon those dreams leaked into my mental musing during the day until she was literally all I could think about.

When the treats weren’t making an obvious change, Esme roped my siblings into her plans as well—she must have decided the adoption was causing my mood and figured more family time would be the cure. Emmett would wake me up early to work out with him in the basement. Jasper would drag me down to the beach with him whenever he saw me inside. Alice would trick me into going downtown with the promises of food but would pull me into every store we passed.

Rosalie had been the only one of my siblings who had not attempted to squeeze me into their lives, and I would have been insulted by the fact if I didn’t respect it so much. So, it was a surprise that when Rosalie called Emmett’s phone after we were enjoying breakfast after a particularly painful workout, she asked for me.

It wasn’t a social call, but I had already figured that out. Rosalie had merely left her sheet music for her piano lesson in her room and needed me to bring it to her during homeroom. There wasn’t even a goodbye—she simply listed her demand, hung up, and expected me to follow through.

When I gave Emmett a _what-was-that-all-about_ look, he threw back _I-don’t-know-don’t-ask-me._ There was something in his eyes that told me I should just do what Rosalie wanted and not ask questions.

Up on the second floor, Rosalie’s room was unsurprisingly similar to Rosalie herself: Pretty and practical. Her room had a balcony facing the ocean, just as mine did, and her furniture just as sparse, but her room had the light, gentle touches of a teenage girl: candles, fake flowers, lots of pictures of her with friends arranged in a heart on the wall.

Sitting beside the balcony was her keyboard. I had no idea we had a piano in the household. I turned it on briefly and fluttered my fingers over the keys before abruptly turning it off again. I remembered enjoying the piano when it was offered at an elementary school in Seattle. I thought I even remembered being good at it. When I switched foster homes and got relocated to Forks, their schools didn’t have enough funding for luxuries such as music classes. So, my piano lessons came to a crashing halt, and I figured they were something I would just have to leave behind in my past lives, like everything else.

Feeling silly for touching Rosalie’s keyboard, I snatched her sheet music and went to my car, shutting off my thoughts of a beautiful grand piano and a beautiful girl in a beautiful sundress dancing to their music.

Once at school, I informed my homeroom teacher that I needed to bring something to my sister and would miss the rest of homeroom so I could get to first period on time. Ms. Cope had Rosalie in her homeroom last year when she was a junior and immediately brightened at the sound of her name. “Oh! How is Rosalie? I hope she’s alright!”

“Fine. I just need to bring her some sheet music.”

“Oh, of course you do!” Ms. Cope cooed, “She’s an angel, and angels must sing!”

There wasn’t really a response to that other than a head nod and a curt wave goodbye.

I exited the main building to head up to North Campus where Rosalie and the rest of the AP seniors had class. Rosalie stood out in the hallway, waiting for me. This would be our first interaction at school. Rose refused to drive me since day one and even though the entire school shared a lunch period, she was careful to never have our paths cross. I wasn’t sure what caused the scowl on her face—the fact that she made a mistake and needed help or my presence. Whatever the case, I offered her what she needed, “Here you are, sister dear.”

She snatched the sheet music from my hands, “I hope you didn’t touch anything in my room.”

“Don’t worry. I only threw up on the bed.”

Her smile was anything but amused, “Cute.”

My answering smile was just as cold. I think I was beginning to like Rosalie.

Rosalie slunk back into her homeroom without a goodbye, which seemed to be a standard for her. The bell would ring soon, and if I didn’t utilize this head start, I would never make it to first period on time. I turned, ready to head back to the main campus with the other plebs and lowerclassmen, when I was once again brought to a stop by the loveliest pair of warm, brown eyes.

The girl was there. At the end of the hall.

How did miss someone I didn’t know? How could I look into the eyes of a stranger and feel the home I’d never had?

I wasn’t sure if it was because absence made the heart go fonder or whatever, but she looked more beautiful than I remembered. Her long mahogany was hair tied back the way I liked it and she was wearing a light green sundress I hadn’t seen yet. This one might be my new favorite.

When she realized I was staring back, her eyes widened, and she turned abruptly to walk in the opposite direction, as she always did. This time, two guys happened to be walking out of a room right as she turned. She crashed into a guy with a blonde, douchebag ponytail, spilling a bright red energy drink down the front of his white shirt and her pretty dress.

With both hands over her mouth, she quickly took two steps back, assessing the damage.

“What the hell?” the guy demanded, shaking off the access drink from his hands.

Panicking, she turned back around. When she saw me still standing there, her features morphed from guilt to dread. She froze, like a deer in headlights, not sure if she would rather face me or Douchebag Ponytail, looming behind her.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Ponytail grabbed her upper arm and pulled her closer to him, “Hey, babygirl, I’m not mad.” She tried to pry his hand from her arm, but he just gripped her harder.

“I know a way you can make it all better,” he growled playfully. Then, to my horror, he dragged her back into the room he came from.

“Hey!” I yelled, rushing down the hallway and into the room, which turned out the be a back entrance to the gym, where the pool was located. When I arrived, the girl had kicked Douchebag Ponytail where it hurt and was starting to flee. Douchebag Ponytail hunched over in pain with his hands over his groin, yelling after her. His friend with dreadlocks snatched her before she could get too far and passed her back to Ponytail. 

“Hey!” I yelled again. 

Dreadlocks tried to block my path, “Get outta here, man.”

I shoved him out of the way to get to Ponytail, “Leave her alone!”

Ponytail scooped the girl up into his arms, “Calm down, buddy. We’re just going for a swim. The two of us are going to get all cleaned up. Aren’t we, babygirl?”

She shook her head emphatically.

“You’re fine,” he teased the girl, “If you want us to leave you alone, just say so.” The two boys laughed.

Although she was obviously terrified of the approaching water, the girl said nothing. She put her hands on his chest and tried to shove him away, but it was a wasted effort. Though he wasn’t that big of a guy, she was still tiny in his arms.

“Say something if you don’t want to go for a swim!” he mocked.

“Stop!” It sounded more like a plead than a command.

I ran at them as he swung her back, preparing to toss her into the pool. The intention was to take her from his arms, but instead, he threw her into me, causing the three of us the drop to the floor. Unfortunately, the floor for me was dangerously close to the water, and I fell backward into the pool. When I resurfaced, Ponytail was on his ass, cursing out at Dreadlocks for laughing at him. The girl was gone.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Coach Clapp yelled from his office, rushing towards the scene. The two assholes hauled out of there at the sound of the teacher’s voice. By the time I pulled myself from the water, they were long gone as well.

“You that desperate for a Swim, Cullen?” the coach demanded.

“There were two guys—,” I started.

“I saw them,” Coach Clapp interrupted, “I know where they’re going. Take a seat,” He pointed to the bleachers, “I’ll round them up.”

Reluctantly, I sat where he pointed. With my head in my hands, I wondered after the girl. Once again, she was gone without a trace, but hopefully, she was safe, wherever she was. As I moped, a towel was draped gingerly across my shoulders. I looked up, expecting a teacher or Jessica or Angela, and was amazed to see the girl.

“Thank you.”

She smiled shyly. It was magical, surreal. Then again, every moment with her felt like a dream.

“I hope that was alright for me to do back there… It just seemed like you were in trouble and needed help. Not that you need a man to swoop in and save you all the time. Because girls can handle themselves too. Wonder Woman and all that. You know. Feminism.” I was rambling. “Sorry. Ignore me. Are you alright?” That was what was more important, anyway.

Instead of responding, she turned to walk away. Which was fair—her proximity always turned me into a babbling idiot.

However, I couldn’t let her. Not again. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to me—her skin was as cold as I remembered. I squeezed her hand a bit tighter and regretted it immediately. She yanked it from my grasp and turned to me with incredulous eyes.

“I’m sorry! It’s just, I—I,” I didn’t even have a reasonable excuse. I was simply obsessed with her, and I certainly couldn’t admit that right to her. I’d terrify her more than I already did, “I think I could really like you. I like your truck. I like your books. I _really_ like your pretty sundresses. So please, would allow me to get to know you?”

She bit her lower lip in that heartbreakingly adorable way, looking around for a moment or two dispiritingly. Her little shoulders slumped when she did not see what she was looking around for. With a little sign, she rotated her pointer fingers around each other. Then, she closed one hand into a fist and lightly tapped her fingers to her lips.

_Sign language._

“Oh.” My mouth popped open as all of her past behavior suddenly made sense. _She was deaf._ And _I_ was over here babbling like an idiot. “I see.”

I was barely able to catch her beautiful features fall in shame before she hurried away.

Desperate for a way I could offer reassurance, I stood. I didn’t want to touch her again, and I obviously couldn’t call after her. Even if I knew her name, she wouldn’t be able to _hear_ me. I was about to chase after her, but an older man with a stern eye and a no-nonsense scowl had marched into the room.

“Take a seat, Cullen,” Principal Greene commanded.

The girl slipped around him out the door and was gone.

My heart felt emptier.

Unable to chase after the girl, I complied. Coach Clapp followed in after him, pulling the boys from before along with him. The boys took their seats beside me on the bleachers while the Principal looked the three us of over with disgust. “James Hunter and Laurent Cote. I’m not surprised to see you two behind the trouble. Are you bothering Mr. Cullen, here?”

“We were messing around, Mr. Greene,” Ponytail lied, “We weren’t trying to hurt anyone!”

“It looked like you were harassing that girl.” I retorted.

Ponytail held up his hands, “Merely flirting, my guy.”

Mr. Greene didn’t look amused, “The school pool is not for play; it is for exercise. I do not wish to see anymore horseplay around the pool or any unsupervised swims. Do you boys understand that?”

“Yes,” I said awkwardly aloud while the other two guys silently nodded.

“Very good. I don’t see the need for punishment for a first offense, but if it happens again, you will get detention. And James?”

“Yes, Mr. Greene?” Ponytail asked.

“Find a different technique if you wish to woo a young lady.”

“Yes, Mr. Greene.”

We were dismissed with a warning each. A sick feeling in my gut told me this would not be the end of it.

**oOo**

Every weekday night, the Cullen family sat together for dinner together. Their absurd dining room was designed to seat about twenty people, so for dinner, we sat around the second, secret table that was not fit for guests in their eat-in kitchen. And every night, Esme would cook a spread out of a dietician’s dream journal. The appropriate amount of protein, veg, and carbs adjusted for each family member, so Emmett got extra protein and Alice got no dairy and Carlisle got double veg. Over a month with this family and I still had no idea how she did it.

“How was school today, everyone?” Esme asked, as she did every night, per the Perfect Mother Guidebook.

“Business school kinda sucks,” Alice grumbled, “I had tests in statistics and macro econ, and had _another_ presentation in communications.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re taking nineteen credit hours when you only have to take twelve,” Emmett commented with a smile.

Alice stuck a tiny tongue out at him.

“Alice, we love that you push yourself. Just remember, there’s no shame in dropping a course if it gets to be too much,” Carlisle reminded his daughter, using his stern-but-loving fatherly voice.

“I had to drop _two_ courses one semester, and I still graduated on time with honors,” Esme added.

There was a moment or two of silence as we waited for the next person to contribute something.

“I painted a sick robot today,” Jasper stated with a mouthful of chicken.

“That’s wonderful!” Esme smiled, “Do you have a picture?”

Still chewing, Jasper pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and reached across the table to hand it to Esme.

“It’s amazing!”

Alice peeked over her mother’s shoulder to look at the picture. “Ugh, that’s so fun,” she practically whined, “I should have gone to design school.”

Esme mussed Alice’s hair, “There’s still time for that. You chose the practical option, first.”

“Fuck practicality…”

“Language,” Carlisle and Esme warned at the same time.

“And I…” Emmett tapped the table with his knife and fork, creating his very own drumroll, “…failed my math quiz!”

Esme let out a disappointed _tsk_ , “Oh, Emmett, I’m so sorry. You were working so hard with that tutor!” she turned to Carlisle, “Maybe we should call the tutor; we pay him so much, Emmett should be able to do rocket science by now.”

“Mom!” Emmett whined, “It’s not the _tutor’s_ fault I suck at math. I might just have to go to him more.”

Esme pursed her lips, “Okay, baby, if you want. Just tell me what we owe him for the extra hours.”

“I aced _my_ math quiz,” Rosalie bragged.

Emmett shoved her playfully, “Show-off.”

“Monkey-man.”

“Edward?” Esme pressed, “School?”

I shrugged, “Same old, same old.”

“Actually,” Rosalie grinned, “Edward got pushed into the pool today.”

Esme gasped, “Edward!” Then, to her husband, “I was promised that school would be safe for him, Carlisle.”

Carlisle was typing on his phone, “Already texting the principal, honey.”

“No, stop!” My new parents looked at me desperately, “No one was attacking me. They were trying to push someone else in the pool, and I got pushed in by mistake when I tried to help.”

“Who?” Esme demanded. Carlisle was still texting.

“I—I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Isabella Swan,” Rosalie informed the table.

It felt like Rosalie had offered me a full steak dinner after weeks of starvation, “You know her?”

Rosalie nodded, “She’s in all of my AP courses.”

A senior. A brilliant senior. That was why I barely saw her; she attended her classes in the North Campus with Rosalie.

“Why would someone push this girl into the pool, Rosie?” Esme asked.

“Girl’s a loner and a loser,” Rose shrugged, “It’s bound to happen.”

“That’s so sad,” Esme pouted, “Good for you for sticking up for her, Edward. That was very kind of you.”

“He only did it because he thinks she’s pretty,” Rosalie mocked. “Right, Edward?”

“I don’t want to talk about her with you, Rose.” If she was going to call that sweet girl a loner and a loser for being _deaf_ , I didn’t want to hear what else Rosalie had to say about her.

Rosalie smiled only grew wider at that, “I knew it. All the boys fell for that girl when she started this year. It took less than a month before they realized she wasn’t worth the effort.”

 _Wasn’t worth the effort?_ How could anyone look at that girl’s sweet, shy smile and not immediately want to move every mountain, cross every sea, fight anything and everything in their way just to see it again? I didn’t believe her.

Emmett burst out into his ridiculous guffaw and flicked my earlobe, “Damn Eddie, look how pink your ears are! You got it bad for this girl.” 

“Aw, Edward, that’s so cute!” Alice clasped her hands over her heart, “You could be like her knight in shining armor.”

“Kids, leave your brother alone,” Carlisle warned.

Esme allowed me to finish my meal in silence, by asking her other kids questions. Occasionally, I felt her eyes flicker to me. I could only imagine what she was thinking—her poor, sad, little orphan. Getting pushed into pools by bullies and falling for impossible girls. It made me want to hide under the table with my appropriately portioned chicken tenders and never return.

Back in my room late that night, I put on some wordless piano pieces on my record player, wanting to focus on my own thoughts and not the words of another, for once. As it always, constantly did, my mind wandered back to the girl, or Isabella Swan, as I had learned from Rosalie.

 _Isabella_ —beautiful.

It was a fitting name. I didn’t know how I didn’t guess it, she was nothing _but_ beautiful.

Well, she _was_ something other than beautiful. She was also deaf. Our first conversation made a bit more sense. I could have sworn she was smiling at me, but I had just been fawning over how easily I could read her face while she read. She could have easily been smiling at her book. Then, the stranger who spilled water all over her desk suddenly trapped her and forced her into an introduction she wouldn’t have the rest of the context for. I was such an idiot. Of course I frightened her, I probably seemed every bit of a predator as the douchebags who mocked her silence and threatened her.

But she smiled at me. She brought me a towel. Went so far as to lay it over my shoulders herself.

And then I ruined it.

 _Oh, I see,_ I had said, bringing her shame.

I should have immediately worked to help her communicate with me. Proved to her that it didn’t matter how she talked to me, just show her I was so entirely thrilled that she was willing to say something to me at all.

Because it didn’t matter. Not even in the slightest. I was more than willing to work for this girl, now I just had to work for her in an unexpected way.

A light knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts, “Edward?”

“Yes, mom?”

Esme cracked open the door just enough that I could see her face, “I’m taking Emmett to the bookstore after his classes tomorrow, is there anything you need for school?”

“No—,” I started, but then an idea struck me, “Yes. Could you please get me a book on sign language?” 

_Wasn’t worth the effort_ , my ass.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sure the title and the mood board gave away what I am going to do with Bella, but I hope you all enjoy 😊


End file.
